Tackle Quidditch
by RukiaSakura
Summary: HPDM slash. Draco Malfoy decides to play against Harry Potter in a Quidditch match one day. Harry willingly agrees, only to realize later on that this is a different kind of Quidditch. Takes place after the events of chapter 36 of DH. Hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, the characters, and anything else related to the series (including Quidditch) belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Hello! This is my first fanfic ever, so sorry about the horrible writing and grammar.

* * *

**Tackle Quidditch**

**_Chapter 1_  
**

"Are you sure this isn't a joke, Malfoy?" Harry Potter looked at him warily, one eyebrow raised.

Draco sighed. Here he was, trying to repay back Harry in some way after saving his arse twice a week ago, trying to be as nice to him as possible...and yet Potter refused to receive any reparation whatsoever.

"Look, Potter. The war's over, the D—_Voldemort's_ defeated, and everyone's watching a celebratory game of Quidditch in the pitch right now. So why don't we play our own Quidditch game after that?"

"But what you just suggested right now isn't even Quidditch!! What if you push me off my broom sixty feet high and I end up breaking all my bones?"

Draco chuckled softly as he walked over to the broom shed. "Oh don't worry, Potter. We won't be flying that high. And besides," Draco tapped Harry's head lightly with the old practice broom he was holding. "I'm not intending to squish you into pieces."

The only response he got from Harry was a glare as he walked towards the Quidditch pitch, which was still loud with cheers and jeers.

---

Harry couldn't believe it. The stupid git!

A week has passed after Harry had destroyed Voldemort himself, and everyone decided to hold up a month-long celebration for the end of the war instead of going back to classes ("and exams, no wonder," Harry thought gleefully to himself). Today, Hermione decided to skip one of the many parties in the Gryffindor common room again to ask Professor McGonagall (who was now reinstated Headmistress of Hogwarts) if she can come back next year to finish her schooling. Ron perked up when Seamus told everyone there was going to be an inter-house Quidditch game today, and he eagerly dropped his Every Flavor Beans as he rushed to the Quidditch pitch along with everyone else. Ginny was a part of the Gryffindor team, and Harry didn't even bother to come see her since he was still recovering from the excitement of last week. So now he was alone, walking down the entrance hall, enjoying the peace and quiet that now surrounded the castle.

Just as he was going to turn a corner, he crashed into Draco Malfoy, who was sprinting as fast as he could, looking for something (or someone).

"Malfoy!" Harry stared at the person in front of him for a minute. Last time he checked, he heard that the Malfoy family went back to the manor to move some "unnecessary furniture" out of the house. What was Malfoy doing here then??

"Hello, Potter!" He greeted Harry and smiled slyly. "Would you care to play against me in a Quidditch match?"

At the sound of this, Harry's eyes grew wide. He couldn't remember if he ever flew a broom this year. Oh wait, he did...when he saved _Malfoy_. Nevertheless, it has been a while since he raced through the field, the fire in his heart burning wildly whenever he caught sight of the tiny golden ball flying near a goal post...

Harry nodded his head eagerly without a second thought.

"Well." Malfoy showed his Slytherin grin as he started to explain that this wasn't a normal Quidditch game, there were no Bludgers involved, and the Beaters themselves try to push people off their brooms. Harry's stomach dropped at the sound of this.

"What?"

"Too bad, Potter. You accepted."

Harry glanced around to see if there was help around. He frowned when he turned back to see the gleaming spark in Malfoy's eyes. _Well, at least he's glad he could pay me back in some way_.

"Are you sure this isn't a joke, Malfoy?"

---

"Slytherin's in possession of the Quaffle..." Seamus's voice rang out throughout the pitch. "Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are really after them now...oh wait, what's that? Could it be? YES! YES! Weasley and Greengrass got the snitch! GRYFFINDOR-SLYTHERIN WINS!!!!!! See, I told you opposites attract..."

The Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff sides of the pitch filled with wild laughs and cheers, while nervous chuckles drifted from the Slytherins.

Draco smirked. Ever since the war ended, there had been constant Quidditch matches where all four teams pair up with each other in random ways. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw teams have been _dying_ to play against Gryffindor and Slytherin together for days, since their rivalry made them some of the best teams ever so far. And so did everyone else, excluding the Slytherins, who looked down at the very idea of cooperating with their hated enemy. To be honest, Draco himself never figured out why people were looking forward to this...or why anyone would want to play this kind of Quidditch for that matter. There were too many players out on the field and the rules were just too complicated...at least _his_ version of Quidditch made much more sense.

Just like regular Quidditch, except you replace Bludgers with real people. Simple.

Draco leaned back on the entrance as students and teachers rushed out of the pitch back to the castle. He smiled to himself when all of a sudden, someone tackled him down to the ground.

"DRACO!!!!!!!! WE THOUGHT YOU LEFT!!!!!!"

He coughed out a bit of dirt before looking up to see Pansy Parkinson leaning down on him and hugging his waist like a teddy bear.

"Pansy...geroff..."

"Hey, Draco, it's nice to see you again! Why aren't you back with your parents?"

"Hm?" Blaise Zabini, Gregory Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode, Theodore Nott, and Daphne Greengrass were standing around him. Pansy slid off Draco and stood up to join the others.

Draco got onto his feet, brushing dirt off his robes. "There wasn't much to do back home, so I decided to sneak back here to join my friends." Draco smiled. "Speaking of which, I just challenged Potter to a little Quidditch match today. If you guys could help me, that would be much appreciated."

A long silence followed. Anything to do with Harry Potter these days made the could-have-been-Death-Eaters Slytherins nervous.

"You can challenge people to play Quidditch just like dueling? Well, why not..." Zabini suddenly smirked. "Anything better than that game we just saw...seriously, I would be jumping for joy right now if it wasn't for the fact that we were playing ALONG with those stupid lions."

The others laughed. Gregory, however, looked down at his shoes silently.

Draco turned to Gregory while the others started to complain about how Finnigan made the Slytherins look like pansies. (Pansy scoffed at this.) "Greg." He put a pale hand on Greg's broad shoulder.

Greg looked up, his glum face still there before showing a faint smile to Draco.

--

"Harry, why are you going to the pitch right now..._with a broom?!_"

"Harry, the match just ended. And there's no reason to get a broom if you're not on the team..."

"Are you going to show us how _awesome_ you are at flying, Harry?"

"Yes! Maybe he can show us some special Seeker moves. Right, Harry?"

Harry rolled his eyes. This was just one of the last things he wanted after the war ended...

Ron glared at the little Gryffindor kids before turning to Harry. "So you're going to play against Malfoy right now?"

Harry nodded. Hermoine, who arrived before the match was over, frowned at this. "But Malfoy said this variant of Quidditch is more violent than the original, which makes sense because tackling people and pushing them down are against the rules in the first place. Not only are you violating laws, Harry, but you're also giving Malfoy a reason to take advantage and stab you in the back after all the things you did for him!"

"I know, Hermione, but I couldn't help myself..." Since when did Hermoine become more of an expert in wizard sports? Shouldn't she have left that job to Harry and Ron?

"Well, it sounds interesting." Neville popped up out of nowhere. "My granny says that Tackle Quidditch used to be very popular here a few centuries ago before the idea was brought over to America. It gained instant popularity there because it was very similar to this one muggle sport...forgot what it was called..."

Harry chuckled and patted Neville softly on the back before seeing Ginny, Seamus, and Dean Thomas rushing up to him.

"It's Malfoy," Ginny panted as she gasped for breath, clutching her Quidditch robes tightly.

---

"I thought this was just the two of us." Harry stared uneasily at the group of people behind Draco.

Draco shook his head. "Potter, Potter...I never said anything about changing the number of players. You need to listen more carefully." He laughed when he saw the horrid look on Harry's face; oh, how lovely it is to reprimand people as if they were little kids. "But fortunately, it seems you've gathered enough morons to form a team already."

"Shut it, Ferret." The Weasel tried to give him a deadly glare. "We wouldn't miss this chance in the world to crush you."

"Seems like you already did." Draco raised one eyebrow, as the Fiendfyre moment suddenly appeared in his mind. "Anyways, here's the deal: it's just like normal Quidditch, except we won't be flying over sixty feet high. Instead of Bludgers, we'll have the Beaters themselves doing the kicking and beating. The Beaters can beat any player in the game except the Keepers. Oh and instead of goal posts," Draco pointed his wand at the ground; thick yellow lines appeared at the ends of the field. "we'll be using these to mark the goals, since we can't go past the height limit. Any team that catches this practice Snitch right here or knock out both of the other team's Beaters will win the game. Any questions?"

His Slytherin teammates just smiled while Harry and the rest looked like they were lost for words. Draco gave him another smirk before turning around to Greg, who was the other Beater (besides Draco himself). "Listen, you can tackle anyone you want, but leave Potter to me. Got that?"

Greg nodded eagerly. Whatever was making him sad in the first place seemed to have disappeared.

"Alright." Draco turned around to look at Harry, who just finished getting his team ready. "Ready to lose, Potter?" He smirked.

"You wish." Harry returned the smirk back with a fixed stare.

Draco mounted on his broom as he took a whistle out of a pocket in his robes. As soon as he saw Harry all prepared, he blew the whistle. The game began.

_Well, we're evenly matched_. Draco thought as he hovered near the edge of the field, watching the match. As their Beaters, Finnigan and Thomas, dodged one of Greg's punches, Thomas stuck out his right leg and smacked it right into Greg's face. Although Greg rocked uncontrollably at first, he regained balance and headed towards the other Gryffindor players. _ They're fast, but we're strong._

The Weaselette, who had the Quaffle from the beginning, accidentally dropped the Quaffle as Greg tried to drive his broom straight into herback. By a narrow millimeter, she dodged him. Soon, Blaise grabbed the Quaffle and passed it to Millicent, who was trying to drive off Longbottom and Granger, the other Gryffindor Chasers. The mud--muggleborn, however, didn't even bother to go for the Quaffle, let alone holding on to her broom for dear life. Theodore passed by her and signaled to Greg to tackle her. Greg smiled evilly as he charged down towards the frightened Gryffindor. Suddenly, Thomas zoomed in and brushed passed Greg, making him lose his balance. The Weasel, who was watching wide-eyed from the yellow goal line, gestured to Granger to come over to his side. Pansy, guarding the other goal line, almost rolled off her broom as she hysterically laughed and pointed her finger at the sight of the mud--Gryffindor.

It wasn't until he noticed Finnigan charging in front of him. "Yikes." Draco swiveled just in time as Finnigan's broom brushed against his ear. Now would be a good time to find Harry.

---

Some few yards away, Harry zoomed across the field looking for the practice Snitch, looking up every once in a while to see Daphne Greengrass, his Slytherin counterpart, tailing closely behind him. He turned around uncomfortably as Greengrass showed her brilliantly white teeth at him. If he can just find that Snitch and get this game over with, no one would have to be knocked out of their brooms and end up in the hospital wing.

He saw something shiny near the goal posts.

_Perfect_, Harry smiled as he zoomed towards the Snitch, quickly losing Greengrass on the way. _Malfoy will regret this..._

_Bam!_ Harry unwillingly fell off his broom as a pale blond figure grabbed him out of nowhere and pushed him down towards the ground. He closed his eyes tightly as they rolled off and wrestled each other on the grass. When they finally stopped, something wet touched his lips and a heavy weight shoved him down. Harry sighed. _Oh great. I'm doomed._

Harry was really surprised, however, when he opened his eyes and picked up his hands to touch his lips, only to find Malfoy's lips sucking on them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, the characters, and anything else related to the series (including Quidditch) belong to J.K. Rowling.

I've finally got the whole plot now; I just need to write down the chapters, that's all. I realized that I might have made a few mistakes back in the last chapter, so I fixed it a little. If you have suggestions on how to improve my story (I'm still trying to work on my writing style), please let me know when you review (if you do review, that is).

* * *

**Tackle Quidditch**

_**Chapter 2**_

Harry's eyes grew wide. He could do nothing at all, nothing except to just lie there on the soft grass, cringing every time Malfoy's wet tongue tried to pry his tight lips apart. Well, at least Malfoy's paying back, but this is just...

He shoved Malfoy off just as he saw the others walking up to him.

----

Draco looked at Harry revoltingly when he shoved Draco off his body as he sat up. That stupid git! Then again...when _did_ Draco fall in love with Harry? It didn't seem to make sense; they weren't enemies anymore but that didn't mean they can be friends and go beyond that. Maybe it was just admiration for Harry when he saved Draco and Greg from the Fiendfyre a few weeks ago..._maybe_.

Just then his Slytherin friends started to crowd around him and Harry. The Gryffindor team, too.

"What the heck was that for, Malfoy?!" The Weasel gave him a disgusted face. "Was that how your idiot of a father paid the Ministry for doing what he wanted them to do?"

Draco had the perfect retort for Weasley on his tongue when Blaise suddenly cut in.

"Wow, I hate to admit this, Draco, but the other match looked better than _this_, at least." The other Slytherins nodded. Greg just looked down at his shoes, while Pansy gave Draco a look that reminded him of a horribly cooked radish.

An awkward silence filled the atmosphere for a while before Finnigan looked up. "Oh will you look at that? It's getting dark! Let's go back before everyone starts wondering where we are." He rushed straight towards the castle, the Gryffindors and Slytherins following him in the same manner. Harry shot Draco another dirty look before leaving him all alone, sitting on the soft grass in the middle of the pitch.

---

The cool breeze went through Draco's perfectly combed hair as he looked up at the tiny stars in the clear night sky. Maybe tackle Quidditch wasn't such a good idea after all. To begin with, trying to push people off their brooms was an illegal move in normal Quidditch, so it's hard enough to play tackle Quidditch in plain sight. However, it was even harder to play it in underground tunnels, bushy forests, or anything that is fit for a secret hideout. The oddest thing of all was that the Gryffindorks agreed to this without any argument, including that mudblood and Har—_Potter_. Draco sighed. _Potter_ will never love him back, so what the heck is Draco doing by constantly thinking about it?

It must have been almost bedtime when Draco finally walked up the stairs to the entrance hall, his footsteps breaking the loud silence in the long corridors. He started picking up his pace as he walked towards the Slytherin common room in the dungeons. Sooner or later, he had to go back to Malfoy Manor; he can't risk getting himself into trouble and staying here much longer.

Just as he got out of a dark narrow passageway, Draco met Argus Filch, the caretaker, in front of the steps leading to the dungeons. He unexpectedly shuddered. Even though he respected the old guy at some point in the past, he could never get used to those big, ugly yellow teeth, which only show whenever a student was causing huge trouble.

"Running away, are we? Even though you haven't been here this year, you're still getting detention for breaking rules, Mr. Malfoy." Filch's already-huge smile got even bigger.

_Oh no_. Draco smacked his palm on his forehead. He wondered if his parents would be notified of this as well.

---

"Will you tell me where you got the very idea from, Mr. Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall's eagle eye warily watched Malfoy carefully.

"Er...erm..." Harry stifled a chuckle. It must have been very hard to quickly make up a lie and avoid the Professor's deadly stare at the same time. Nevertheless, Malfoy deserved it; because of him, he, Ron, and Hermione had to kneel on the marble floor to organize tons of thick essays and paperwork back into their cabinets.

"There was a book about different versions of Quidditch in the Malfoy Library. A while ago," Draco slightly gulped at this. (_A while ago must have been when he was torturing Luna and Mr. Ollivander,_ Harry thought.) "I was reading this book called _101 Kinds of Playing Quidditch_. It was very informative about the different variations of Quidditch there, including the ones that were banned by the law." He suddenly stood up straight and stared at Professor McGonagall straight in the eye, as if the Malfoy name can still show a good impression on her.

Too tired to keep eavesdropping, Harry decided to focus back the pile of Transfiguration essays he had to put away. Too bad the Professor didn't allow them to use magic; his arms started aching like madly.

"Psst." Harry turned around to see Malfoy kneeling right next to him, stealing part of Harry's pile and jamming the papers into a huge drawer nearby. Harry was a little shocked to suddenly see him there...only because the distance between them was so small. Ron's red and sweaty face grew even redder at the sight of this, while Hermione only stiffened a little before continuing to file papers regarding Severus Snape's death.

"Go away, Malfoy. You're too close."

"Too close my foot." Malfoy looked around to see if the Professor was still watching. "Listen, Potter. I'm sorry for what happened earlier. I wanted to thank you for saving me and Greg earlier by having something related to Quidditch, since both of us seemed to love flying in some way...right? But I didn't read carefully enough and I wasn't thinking straight..."

"Of course you weren't thinking straight, Ferret." Ron glared at Malfoy over Harry's head. "You never do when you're trying to get us into trouble."

"Ron!" Hermione smacked him; the Professor turned around and raised one eyebrow in question at the four of them.

Harry said nothing and kept shuffling papers in another drawer. Just finish all of this first, run away from Malfoy as soon as possible, and then go to the library to do some research. It has been a while since he checked out _Quidditch throughout the Ages_.

"Oh, and Pot—Harry? I love you."

Harry neither looked up nor said anything, although there was a clutching pain in his stomach. No way was he going to fall for _that_ again, accepting Malfoy's "love" as a life debt. Ron turned into a deep shade of an ugly purple, while Hermione stared at Malfoy with her eyes wide open.

"Can't wait for Harry to marry you and jack all your money from Gringotts, then." Ron's sweaty hand clenched into a tight fist as Hermoine hopelessly tried to drag his arm back.

Harry sighed. All he wanted was some peace and quiet after the war, but that would only be a dream come true if Malfoy wasn't around.

---

Pansy Parkinson looked at the window in her dormitory and sighed. The dark clouds seemed to move away, leaving a bright full moon shining in the distance. She dreamily smiled at the bright circle in the sky. Soon she'll be able to walk beneath it and watch it with her beloved fiancé...

Right after she clutches him back from Potter first, that is.

Pansy looked down at the piece of yellow parchment in front of her. So far, she hadn't been able to write a neat, proper letter to her father without shaking her quill in anger at the very thought of Draco snogging Potter in the Quidditch pitch (if only it was the other way around, at least she can accuse Potter of something). Pansy sighed. What was it that made Potter so attractive to Draco? What did _he_ have that she didn't have?

She grumbled in frustration as she tried to put away the thought that Draco was gay and liked men better than women.

"Okay, calm down, Pansy." she mumbled to herself. "Father will come up with something clever soon..." She smiled as words quickly spilled out of her hand, asking for help for finding a good plan of revenge; the letter she wanted was right in front of her now, with no shaky letters or awkward phrases.

"Perfect." She put the letter away in a safe place so that she can have something to bring to the owlery the next morning. Now back to studying for N.E.W.T. Potions.

Pansy cackled silently at this. Professor McGonagall should have come up with a better punishment than threatening to take a thousand points off Slytherin and forcing them to study for exams that will come at the last week of school.

_Everything's going to be perfect_, she thought as she smiled sweetly to herself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, the characters, and anything related to the series belong to J.K. Rowling.

Thanks for the only review I got so far! I'll keep that in mind, but that might drag the story a bit. Originally I planned to write 5 chapters, but since you suggested that, I'll try my best to make it interesting as possible.

Once again, sorry for the horrible writing. I also apologize if the story here seems too boring (personally I've never written romance before, and I'm too tired to write any action scenes right now) or some of the characters seem too OOC (including Draco, possibly.)

* * *

**Tackle Quidditch**

**Chapter 3**

_Two weeks later_

Drool spread all over Ron as he snored on the compartment window in the Hogwarts Express. Pidwidgeon fluttered above his head, frantically hooting at the sight of his master. Harry chuckled. If only Hedwig was here...

"You miss her, don't you? Your owl?" Hermione seemed to notice Harry staring at the bird. "Why don't you get another owl that looks just like Hedwig for your birthday?"

"Nah, it'll remind me too much of her. I don't want to do the same thing to her as I did to Sirius." Even to this day forward, Harry still has trouble getting used to his godfather's death. He couldn't even explain to his friends why he decided to live in Grimmauld Place instead of the Burrow; the only explanation he could come up with was that he had to keep Kreacher company, who liked to go back from Hogwarts every now and then.

"Or you can get Buckbeak..." Ron muttered under his sleepy breath. "Then again, maybe he's better off with Hagrid..."

"Ron!" Hermione rolled her eyes as she took a thin handkerchief out of her robes and washed the saliva off Ron's mouth. "Isn't Ginny supposed to be back from the restroom by now?" she asked suddenly.

"Huh?" Harry perked up, turning to look at the empty seat next to him. That's strange...generally people don't take a hour to go to the toilet, do they?

Just when Harry started to reply to Hermione, the compartment door slammed open. "THAT EVIL WITCH!!!!!!" the person yelled as she stomped into the compartment.

Harry looked at Ginny in horror. Her long red hair was askew, her robes were dripping with water, her eyes were narrowing in a fierce glare, and her knuckles grew red as she clutched her fists tightly. There was a black eye and a few dark bruises on her face.

Ron woke up suddenly from the loud noise. "Wuzzgoinon?"

"Ginny..." Hermione stood up, eyes wide in shock. "are you alright?"

"_Of course_ _I'm alright_, how can I not be alright?" Ginny rolled her eyes. "That Parkinson hag tried to beat every inch out of me..."

Harry frowned as Ginny landed on her seat and started telling her story. He frowned even more as he continued to hear what happened.

---

Pansy gasped harshly as another round of blood flew out of her mouth. She could still hear the sound of the running faucet, albeit barely. Why did her Bat-Bogey Hex have to be so _strong_?

She slowly stood up, still shaking violently, crumbling the wet piece of parchment that was clutched in her left hand. Things have been not going the way she wanted them to go so far...

A few weeks ago, shortly the day after Pansy sent her letter, an owl came back with her father's reply.

_Pansy,_

_How dare you try to bother me with your stupid little love problem! You should know better than that; I'm still trying to hide myself from those pesky Aurors even though I have no point in supporting a dead Dark Lord anymore! Next time you come up running to me and asking me for help like some stupid little girl, at least do it when I'm not trying to run away for life!_

_Sincerely,_

_Your father_

Pansy's jaw dropped. Her father should have convinced those stupid people to leave him alone by now. She dropped her Transfiguration book as she took out another piece of parchment, only to have another owl fly into the window and drop another scroll onto her lap.

She unrolled the scroll; it was another letter from her father again. Something seemed different though...

_Dear Pansy,_

_I just re-read your letter once again, and I am sorry about what I wrote in my last letter. That one part about Harry Potter didn't stick out to me as much._

Pansy gave an evil smile at the letter. He probably stopped supporting the Dark Lord, but he still hated Potter. Probably because of his fame for being The-Boy-Who-Lived-and-Probably-Has-Tons-of-Galleons-at-Gringotts-Right-Now.

Pansy read on. Something about resolving an issue that started with tackle Quidditch by playing _another_ game of tackle Quidditch (secretly, of course), contacting his most reliable clients from his shop at Knockturn Alley, and kidnapping a possible close relation to Harry Potter. This seemed to please Pansy very much, all except the sentence at the very end...

_It will probably take loads of time, so bear with me here._

Pansy glared at these words. Patience is one thing Pansy doesn't have (and probably will never have). If anything, it's just that she lacked timing.

That recent encounter with the Weasley girl seemed to prove just that.

---

Draco lied on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He was quite disappointed when he still heard his father's angry rampages outside his room. Well, at least Lucius Malfoy was not planning to report any of his actions at Hogwarts to the Ministry; they still had to gain a good reputation from Shacklebolt before walking around showing off their Malfoy honor.

He looked through the huge window next to the bed. Blaise and Greg were passing the Quaffle to each other, waiting for Draco to finally get out of his room so that they can score some goal hoops together. Draco sighed. His brain, which was usually full of cunning plans and nasty pranks, was sleeping soundly today. Looks like they'll have to wait until Lucius calms down.

As he slowly got out of bed, Draco noticed a neatly wrapped parcel on his desk. The house elves must have snuck it up there last night.

_Oh, it's from Pansy._ Draco thought as he slowly unwrapped the packaging as if tearing it might make his father even angrier. He looked at the bright red box that was right in front of him as a small piece of parchment fell out from it.

Draco picked up the note, recognizing Pansy's fancy capital letters.

_My lovely Drakkie!!!!!! So sorry that I sent your birthday present late again. I seem to have forgotten again. You will forgive me, won't you, darling? _

_With love, _

_Pansy _

He growled. "_Seem to have forgotten"? She always sends my presents late, but never THIS late!!! _ He tried his best to resist the impulse of shredding the note into tiny pieces. Pansy always forgot when it was his birthday, Christmas, Halloween, blah blah blah...

Reluctantly he opened the box. It was full of...

"Chocolates?" He groaned. He didn't know what was worse, Pansy forgetting that it was his birthday or Pansy forgetting that he wanted to be allergic to chocolates.

Quickly he threw the box into the far end of the room and put an old issue of the Daily Prophet over it, hoping that the house elves would mistake it for trash. Then his stomach growled.

"Damn." He was still hiding from his father during lunchtime, too, so now he was completely craving for food. Draco looked at the place where he hid the box of chocolates.

"Well, maybe one wouldn't be so bad..." He slowly walked up to the newspaper and quickly snuck out a tiny, round chocolate from the box. It was about to go straight into his mouth when his hand suddenly stopped.

Instinct was telling him not to eat this chocolate.

He sniffed the chocolate very carefully; it smelled strangely sweet like a lavender. Sighing, he threw the chocolate into the trash can. Pansy might have put something in it, but he ignored that thought for now. He shouldn't have cared since he didn't like chocolates anyway.

_My stomach's getting the better of me anyway_. _Might as well face my father like a real Malfoy. Then when he's not looking, I'll ask my mother if there are any leftovers left._ _Oh, and hopefully, I can sneak out to the garden to get my broom and play with Greg and Blaise, if they're still there by then._

Draco grinned his old, normal sneering grin as he walked out of his room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, the characters and everything else in the series belong to J.K. Rowling and associates.

**Notes: **I did a bit of research on names for Pansy's father, since there was no mention of Pansy's parents in the books or anywhere on the Internet (unless I'm wrong). As for Harry's Auror training instructor, I was too lazy to think of a name for her. Sorry. As for updating, I don't know how long it will be before I can get the next chapter going. Currently I'm regretting writing this story as I have other ideas popping into my head right now...

Draco and Hermoine is like PBJ: Hopefully this chapter here will explain what happened in the last chapter. Sorry for confusing you, but thanks for reviewing! =)

DawnPapaya: Why, thank you! =D

* * *

**Tackle Quidditch**

**Chapter 4**

_Four weeks later_

"Harry, so nice of you to visit us again! Ready for Auror training on your birthday?" Arthur Weasley beamed as he looked at the green-eyed just-turned-eighteen year old over his copy of the Daily Prophet.

Harry groaned over his bacon and eggs. "No. I think I'd rather sleep in for today. I could use 'today's a special day' as an excuse."

"Even on their birthdays, Harry, Aurors still have to go to work..." Mr. Weasley chuckled. "Was there some kind of 'Lazy Lollipop' that George gave you this morning as a present?" He raised one eyebrow questioningly at Harry.

"Of course not! I never expected Auror training to be this torturous in the first place! I'm starting to believe that my instructors would love to kill me even more than Voldemort did."

Everyone in the vicinity shuddered at the name. This was quite a natural reaction, of course, even though said person had been dead for quite a while.

"Don't worry, mate." Ron mumbled through bites of waffles. "George refuses to give me more than five galleons every two weeks, even though I'm finally a full-time employee." Suddenly Ron looked up. "Aw no, Hermione left without me again. I guess she's eager to get your present too..."

Harry just smiled and patted his best friend on the back. _Hopefully there won't be any birthday surprises for me when I get to the Ministry_, he thought to himself.

---

"Father...why now? Why can't it be later?" Draco looked stunned.

"Because," Lucius stared at his son as if he was some stupid little kid. "if we're ever going to get our name out of this mud and dirt soon, we have to gain the Ministry's trust back first. And we have to do it NOW."

"But why Auror training? Why? WHY?"

"It is the best solution I can come up with. To show proof of our innocence, it is sometimes best to stick with the law rather than to attack it."

"But isn't there another position I can take? Like working in the Department of Magical Games and Sports or something?" Draco did not mean to add that last part out aloud.

"It took a while enough for me to convince people to give you a job because of our past doings. Luckily for us, Shacklebolt can be quite polite to his enemies sometimes, so just be happy with what you have. And no, _of course not_," Lucius's pale face turned beet red. "those people are the laziest scum I have ever met; you will not be able to uphold our honor by working with those people!" He slammed his hand into the dinner table as he stood up. "And may I remind you that those very same people can find out what happened that day in Hogwarts when you were playing an unauthorized..."

"Alright, I get it, father." Draco tried to appear as calm as he could, unlike his father, who seemed ready to go onto one of his long rampages again. If anything, a Malfoy must be able to stay calm and steady in front of anyone in any situation as much as possible...although Lucius seemed to be an exception to that.

"Oh, and another thing, Draco..." Lucius suddenly receded back into his exhausted self again. "...don't your friends have anything better to do then to show up here every single day and ruin our lawns with their Quidditch practice?"

"Ah, Blaise and Greg have nothing to do at their home, that's all. Just waiting for their parents to come by and get jobs and have normal lives again." Draco gulped. He decided not to mention the reason why they were showing up _just to play Quidditch_. Both were trying out for many of the Quidditch teams in Britain (especially for the Falmouth Falcons; their motto seemed to be a bit interesting). Draco could have died just to go with them.

"Well, you better tell them that they should get back home before their parents notice, then." Lucius turned his back to Draco as he went into the kitchens, looking for his wife, who was probably trying to cook something again with the house elves begging her to stop.

Draco slowly went upstairs to his bedroom, where his friends were waiting for him all morning. Best to get rid of them now before he sets off for his sudden departure to the Ministry.

Before he could open the door, Draco heard loud voices inside his room.

"I love her more!"

"No, I love her more than you do!"

Panicking, Draco opened the door to find Blaise and Greg staring at each other fiercely, each standing in a fighting position.

"What happened?" Draco blinked constantly

"Goyle here says he's in love with Pansy, but I don't know if he's saying that just to get to her money!" Blaise pointed an accusing finger at the person across from him.

"Heh, as if you weren't any different. _Your_ daddy talks to _her_ daddy a lot...I've heard about an arranged marriage..." Greg smirked.

"Well, love and money are two different things. My love for her is bigger than the size of your humongous Gringotts vault!"

"Grrr!" Greg suddenly jumped up, reaching his clawing hands for Blaise's throat. Blaise swiftly dodged the giant hands, but not before he lifted his leg and roundhouse-kicked Greg in the stomach.

Draco groaned. He wondered how they started loving Pansy all of a sudden. Then something on his bed caught his eye.

The box of chocolates was opened. He was sad to see that the chocolates haven't melted yet.

Draco rushed over to his bed, examining the chocolate ball. Of course...his body instinctively stopped itself a few weeks ago from swallowing a dose of love potion.

He ran out of his room with the box, leaving Blaise and Greg alone by themselves. Lucius probably had some kind of antidote in his potions laboratory.

---

"Pansy...what is this?" Titus Parkinson read the letter that the Malfoy barn owl just dropped. He held it threateningly in his hands as his eyes darted left to right, reading the hasty handwriting.

Pansy looked up from her bowl of pea soup. "What?"

He frowned and sneered at the girl sitting right in front of him in her chair. "Chocolates? Love potion? You've sent a poisoned box of chocolates to Lucius Malfoy's son?!"

"WHAT??" She almost spilled her bowl as she stood up.

"Pansy, I appreciate your eagerness for my strategy to bring down Harry Potter," Mr. Parkinson narrowed his eyes further, crushing the letter forcefully. "But this will not help us if all you do is continue to chase Draco Malfoy off a cliff! You've seem to be forgetting that Mr. Malfoy is a very important business ally and has helped me with my shop during financial downturns. We can't lose his trust if we are going to do this."

"I only sent him a late birthday present before school was over." Pansy glanced at her shoes.

"Well, since you've seem to create a revenge plan of your own, we might as well cancel the one we're planning right now. After all, it seems a bit hasty and treacherous to play an illegal sport..."

"NO!" Pansy stood up abruptly. "We can't!"

"Then you might as well just stay put and not do anything rash while I still sort things out!" Titus stomped away.

Pansy silently looked down at her breakfast, shoving it away in disgust. "Stupid Draco," she grumbled.

---

Harry looked at Neville Longbottom as he kept chattering about the training for his first year of teaching. Neville seemed to have lost some weight this summer, yet he looked perfectly fine and normal for a healthy person...unlike Harry.

"...and they just keep telling me finish all this paperwork and everything! I thought we were going straight to the plants!"

"Well, at least you don't get bruises and broken bones every day teaching Herbology." Harry raised his cup of water to take a sip, only to wince when his elbow started aching again.

"Aw, it's okay, Harry. I'm sure being an Auror isn't all that bad," Neville muttered as he looked down at his watch. "Well, gotta go, I'm going to be late for another teacher's meeting. Nice meeting you again, Harry."

"Nice meeting you, too, Neville." Harry greeted painfully as Neville dashed out of the door of the training room.

"Alright, chip-chop, cheerio, coffee break's over," Harry's instructor, a tall, slender woman who almost looks (and acts) like Tonks, except for the Australian accent, suddenly clapped her hands behind Harry as he took another sip. "Now that you've had a nice drink and chat with your mate, it's time to get back to the real stuff."

"Aw no." Harry groaned as she threw his half-full cup into the wastebasket (unsuccessfully, spilling drops of water all over the marble floor) and dragged him across the room.

"And before we start training," The woman ignored Harry's constant groans and complaints. "we're going to introduce you to our new recruit today. He says he knows a lot about you."

This seemed to spark Harry's attention. "He does?" he asked sternly, hoping it wasn't one of those people who constantly kept asking for his autograph.

Harry's instructor, however, kept silent as she kept walking straight (or rather in a zigzag path) towards one of the benches on the far wall, where a dark figure sat silently staring into space. He stood up as soon as they stepped towards him.

"Harry Potter, meet Draco Malfoy." The woman smiled slyly.


End file.
